Meaning is Lost and Nothing is True - A Lockdown Poem

Dying and palely, I walk here alone

Down dim streets under the dying stars

Whose eternal eyes chill me to the bone,

Filling me with rage like murderous Mars.

But little will this anxious anger do,

Trapped forever in this cyclical torture

Where meaning is lost and nothing is true;

All but pain and death in this Grand Order.

- N.L.B. 10/02/2021